


A Path Less Taken

by Feverdream84



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Lemons, More Characters to Follow, Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8907301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feverdream84/pseuds/Feverdream84
Summary: Mild AU: Negan always thought his wife was dead. That was until an unexpected group wandered into the Saviors' territoy.





	

Sanctuary:  
Negan overlooked all that he had every morning along with his routine cup of black coffee. People constantly came and went. Gates opening and closing. Scavengers or soldiers going off to whatever mission he had placed before them. 

All seemed to be a regular Tuesday until one of his familiar artery vehicles, along with an unfamiliar convoy came into sight. Rolling into the compound where three heavily weighted down box trucks. Within second Arat and Dwight had everyone on their knees and emptying the pockets, hands back on their heads as ordered by gun point. 

Negan’s walkie-talkie sound off on the coffee table behind him. 

“Boss, we got this group, found them wandering five mile from the Sanctuary. Think you should check it out? They got a lot of stuff!”  
The blast of sound startled him. Negan was startled for the first time in god knows how fucking long. He had been focus on a figure in the line-up of people knelt down. A woman, her hooded jacket hid a lot but her movements where so much like someone he knew from is past. Lucille. He grabbed the unit from the table.

“No. Keep them there but bring the woman up to me. The one with the hood.”

She was happy she had her jacket. It was starting to get cold in Virginia. This was not the plan. Not at all. They weren’t even supposed to be in this part of the state but the bridge further west had deteriorated and they had no choice. She though this area was surely desolate. Not in her wildest dreams did she think she would be not only ambushed but on her knees in front of some run down factory being held at gun point. 

The heavy drop of small fire arms, wallets and knives brought her back to reality as everyone was ordered to empty their pockets. She thought about setting down her wallet, god be damned if she willingly gave over her gun or knife. Before she could fall in line and follow her comrades she was hoisted up and roughly dragged towards the building by a man with shagy blond hair. 

She couldn’t see the face of the man dragging her inside. His grip was a vice on her bicep, as if he were a robot following an order. The entire ordeal was difficult to process. She'd never been held captive before...well at least not since the beginning. She thought twice about breaking from his grip but didn't, terrified of what would happen to her people if she tried to escape. 

She didn’t say a word, only tried to memorize every step they took for a future escape. Hopefully. 

The man opened the door to a small room. As her eyes adjusted she saw several other women in a nicely decorated room. It seemed very out of place considering the industrial surroundings. It was then she finally got a full look at the man that had taken her here. It took everything in her no to react. She chided herself internally because let’s face it, with walkers, was there anything she hadn’t seen?  
The man had half his face burnt off, it didn’t seem to startle any of the other women in the room. She steeled herself. “Why am I here? Why am I in this room? Why did you separate me from my people?

All she saw was dead eyes.

“Sit down and shut up.”

She sat down on a nearby chaise, oddly relieved all the softness of the cushion. It was much nicer than the seat she had been riding in but nevertheless she was still on edge. What the fuck is going on and why was she here? All of the other women were silent, similarly dressed and kept to themselves like they were waiting for the damn DMV. She couldn't help but notice the strange feeling of dread that lingered in the room, clearly no one wanted to be there.  
The scarred man reappeared. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of her seat. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on? We don’t normally take the road near you. Just let me go and we’ll be on our way. No harm, no foul?”  
He doesn’t listen, just flings a large metal door open and tosses she. He throws her with such force that if it weren’t for her training you would have surely would have major rug burn on her face.

Before she can protest a rough ghostly snaps “D, do I need to teach you about manners again? Help the lady up.”

He does.

“Now be good fucker and get the fuck out of here.”

As the door slams behind her she looked around to see a beautifully furnished room, much like one she would have wanted in a previous life. Large bed, in suite bathroom, fireplace, and a sitting area with windows. There he stood with his back to her. Facing the large industrial windows stood a man, easily over six foot.

This had to be the leader of where ever she was.

“Dwight’s gotta learn better manners, sorry about that. Y’alright?” 

She gripped the back side of a nearby piece of furniture. His voice. Her brow creased. I sounded like an echo from her past. 

“I’m okay, thanks…Look I didn’t know this was someone’s territory. We’re just trying to make it over to North Carolina. If you just let us go we’ll be on our way.” She chided herself for how timid she sounded. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?!'

“That’s not why you’re here.”

'Okay…then why?'

“Oh” 

“How old are you?”

'Talk about manners'.

“35”

“Kids?”

“Nope”

There was a long pause. She studied the backside of the man as best she could, given the lack of light in the room. He had the exact stature of her late husband. It almost comforted her in a way she wasn’t expecting. It caused her to release the chair she had been holding on to and take a few steps forward. 

“Why am I here?” She was happy her voice sounded more level now.

“I’ll ask the questions doll, you just stay put.”

She didn’t listen and gingerly took another step, now the only thing separating them was a small coffee table. He didn’t seem to notice and maintained his stoic stance looking outward through the windows.

As she got closer more characteristics became all too familiar. 

'It couldn’t be'. 

“And you husband? Pretty little thing like you, you gotta have one. Where’s he at?”

“That’s a lot to assume. You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Take your hood off. And whatever is keeping your hear back. Take it down.”

She did as she was told and while doing so dares a few more steps forward. She was now only two few from him. She could she his profile now. It took her breathe. 'It can’t be true.' She did her best to stifle her gasp but there was a tension in his shoulders.

“I hate repeating myself darlin’, where is your husband?”

She was inches from him how. 

“I lost him.” 

“Did you?”

With that she took all the courage she had and reached into the cup of her bra where she had sewn in her wedding ring for safe keeping. The tear in the fabric made him finally turn. Just as he did she showed him the ring.

“You tell me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first TWD fanfic and my first fanfic in a realllly long time. Please bare with me as I am also (surprise) new to the AO3 format. I got bored on a Sunday and thoiught I would through this out into the fanfic world. I plan on more chapters soon. My Lucy is no angel. Soon enough she'll be slipping into those Egyptian cotton Negan sheets :)
> 
> I gotta ask, scruff or no scruff? 
> 
> Honeslty I kinda miss me some salt and pepper.
> 
> If I don't post before Christmas, Happy Holidays Everyone!


End file.
